"Und so ist der blaue Himmel grösser als jedes
Gewölk darin, und dauerhafter dazu."
JEAN PAUL RICHTER.
Jackanapes' death was sad news for the Goose Green, a sorrow justly
qualified by honorable pride in his gallantry and devotion. Only the
Cobbler dissented, but that was his way. He said he saw nothing in it
but foolhardiness and vain-glory. They might both have been killed,
as easy as not, and then where would ye have been? A man's life was a
man's life, and one life was as good as another. No one would catch
him throwing his away. And, for that matter, Mrs. Johnson could spare
a child a great deal better than Miss Jessamine.
But the parson preached Jackanapes' funeral sermon on the text,
"Whosoever will save his life shall lose it; and whosoever will lose
his life for My sake shall find it;" and all the village went and wept
to hear him.
Nor did Miss Jessamine see her loss from the Cobbler's point of view.
On the contrary, Mrs. Johnson said she never to her dying day should
forget how, when she went to condole with her, the old lady came
forward, with gentle-womanly self-control, and kissed her, and thanked
GOD that her dear nephew's effort had been blessed with success, and
that this sad war had made no gap in her friend's large and happy home
circle.
"But she's a noble, unselfish woman," sobbed Mrs. Johnson, "and she
taught Jackanapes to be the same, and that's how it is that my Tony
has been spared to me. And it must be sheer goodness in Miss
Jessamine, for what can she know of a mother's feelings? And I'm sure
most people seem to think that if you've a large family you don't know
one from another any more than they do, and that a lot of children are
like a lot of store-apples, if one's taken it won't be missed."
Lollo--the first Lollo, the Gipsy's Lollo--very aged, draws Miss
Jessamine's bath-chair slowly up and down the Goose Green in the
sunshine.
The Ex-postman walks beside him, which Lollo tolerates to the level of
his shoulder. If the Postman advances any nearer to his head, Lollo
quickens his pace, and were the Postman to persist in the injudicious
attempt, there is, as Miss Jessamine says, no knowing what might
happen.
In the opinion of the Goose Green, Miss Jessamine has borne her
troubles "wonderfully." Indeed, to-day, some of the less delicate and
less intimate of those who see everything from the upper windows, say
(well behind her back) that "the old lady seems quite lively with her
military beaux again."
The meaning of this is, that Captain Johnson is leaning over one side
of her chair, whilst by the other bends a brother officer who is
staying with him, and who has manifested an extraordinary interest in
Lollo. He bends lower and lower, and Miss Jessamine calls to the
Postman to request Lollo to be kind enough to stop, whilst she is
fumbling for something which always hangs by her side, and has got
entangled with her spectacles.
It is a two-penny trumpet, bought years ago in the village fair, and
over it she and Captain Johnson tell, as best they can, between them,
the story of Jackanapes' ride across the Goose Green; and how he won
Lollo--the Gipsy's Lollo--the racer Lollo--dear Lollo--faithful
Lollo--Lollo the never vanquished--Lollo the tender servant of his old
mistress. And Lollo's ears twitch at every mention of his name.
Their hearer does not speak, but he never moves his eyes from the
trumpet, and when the tale is told, he lifts Miss Jessamine's hand and
presses his heavy black moustache in silence to her trembling fingers.
The sun, setting gently to his rest, embroiders the sombre foliage of
the oak-tree with threads of gold. The Grey Goose is sensible of an
atmosphere of repose, and puts up one leg for the night. The grass
glows with a more vivid green, and, in answer to a ringing call from
Tony, his sisters, fluttering over the daisies in pale-hued muslins,
come out of their ever-open door, like pretty pigeons form a dovecote.
And, if the good gossips' eyes do not deceive them, all the Miss
Johnsons, and both the officers, go wandering off into the lanes,
where bryony wreaths still twine about the brambles.
* * * * *
A sorrowful story, and ending badly?
Nay, Jackanapes, for the end is not yet.
A life wasted that might have been useful?
Men who have died for men, in all ages, forgive the thought!
There is a heritage of heroic example and noble obligation, not
reckoned in the Wealth of Nations, but essential to a nation's life;
the contempt of which, in any people, may, not slowly, mean even its
commercial fall. Very sweet are the uses of prosperity, the harvests
of peace and progress, the fostering sunshine of health and happiness,
and length of days in the land.
But there be things--oh, sons of what has deserved the name of Great
Britain, forget it not!--"the good of" which and "the use of" which
are beyond all calculation of worldly goods and earthly uses; things
such as Love, and Honor, and the Soul of Man, which cannot be bought
with a price, and which do not die with death. And they who would fain
live happily EVER after, should not leave these things out of the
lessons of their lives.
[Illustration]
* * * * *